


Finding Carmen

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:14:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Prompt: shane (from the l word played by katherine moennig) runs into shaw thinking she's carmen (from the l word played by Sarah shahi) who's been missing for several days. Shaw makes it clear that she's not carmen and her and root help find carmen bc turns out she was their next number anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Carmen

Shaw sets out, sun warm and breeze light, ready to meet up with their group at the station before heading to her day job. Although a step up from the beauty department, Shaw wasn’t too thrilled about her new line of work: retail. Sitting behind a desk in a tight suit and high ponytail, smile burned onto her uncooperative face, forced to talk and act cheery to anyone on the phone. And the worst part: she still couldn’t go around with guns blazing.  _Reese had quite the luck,_ Shaw thinks almost wistfully, turning left into a crowd of people. Like fish, they all travel in a single school, swimming down their own concrete gulf stream.

However, one person is setting off a ripple of chaos as she pushes back against the hoard, shimmying her way past in the opposite direction. Shaw comes to connect eyes with her at the same time, and is confused about the way the girl’s hazel eyes light up at the sight. The woman begins to thrash across the crowd, a new determination in her movement, all the while Shaw keeps her sharp eyes on the stranger.

“Carmen!”

* * *

 

She yells out, hand raising into the air in a wave. Shaw doesn’t respond, just continues to walk down the busy street.

Finally, the woman breaks through, coming up along Shaw’s side, a sort of relief in her eyes.

“Hey,” she breathes out, her frame lanky and tall, muscled, and dressed in a baggy t-shirt; jeans ripped at the knees. Someone Shaw knows she has never seen before, would never have known in any previous years, and feels a defensive suspicion growing within. “Why didn’t you stop for me? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Why.”

“Because you just  _left_ ,” the woman says, as if it is obvious. “It’s been  _days_ , Carmen.”

 _Carmen?_ Shaw thinks, then purses her lips. “You have the wrong person,” Shaw tells her flatly, picking up her pace to brush past the stranger. The woman, not seeming to believe Shaw, quickens her own gate.

“Are you mad at me or something?” She asks, long legs making it painfully easy for her to keep up. Shaw grinds her teeth together, one word away from attacking her pursuer.  _Normalcy is key,_  Shaw reminds herself, trying to keep calm.  _Stay off Samaritan’s radar._  “C'mon, Carmen.” The woman reaches out a hand, wrapping it around Shaw’s upper arm to get her to turn around.

_Big mistake._

Shaw, with lightning speed and near-blind rage, throws the tall stranger into the nearest alleyway, pressing her up against the damp bricks of the wall, and presses her hand down hard against the woman’s windpipe. She chokes, eyes widening in surprise. Her fingernails scrape at Shaw’s hand, tear at her jacket sleeve, but Shaw ignores it all, eyes in slits.

“What… the….  _hell_..” The woman hisses, using both hands to try and pry Shaw off. But Shaw is steel eyed and steel gripped. Finally, the woman starts to let up the fight, and Shaw casts her to the ground, looming over her like a dark angel. The woman coughs violently, hands holding her throat as she curls into a fetal position on the filthy ground. “Where did you learn defense like that?” She asks with a wheeze, sitting up on her elbows.

“Who are you,” Shaw demands, voice a growl and dark eyes lit with scalding flames.

“Shane- Shane McCutcheon,” she responds, a bitterness forming in her eyes. She’s silent, and the two study each other. “You’re just going to pretend like we’ve never met?” She bursts suddenly, short, dark hair shaking about her head in the sudden anger.

“Considering we  _haven’t_  met?” Shaw asks dryly. “Yes.” Shane’s eyes narrow slightly, still holding on to the belief that Shaw is Carmen.

“Hey, Sweetie,” a familiar voice rings in Shaw’s ear, and she feels an involuntary surge of relief.  _Finally something normal’s happened today_. “You busy?”

“A little…” Shaw replies in a nearly dangerous voice, partially preoccupied with Shane, but still trying to maintain a casual counter front. “Skip the verbal foreplay, Root, why are you calling.”

“Just wondering where you are,” Root says with a mused chuckle. “Because you’re  _late_.”

Shaw gives a sharp, short laugh, body relaxing. “Late for  _what_? My silly ass  _job_?” She detects movement from the corner of her eye, and before she even thinks, her hand reaches to her waistline, protrudes a gun, and aims, face snapping to the side to catch Shane in her gaze. At the sight of the gun, Shane freezes, eyes growing ever wider.

“ _Jesus_ , Carmen,” she says with a note of hysteria. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Carmen?” Root’s voice repeats, and a playful tone sweeps through her words. “Are you leading some double life I don’t know about?” She teases.

“If I am, someone forgot to tell  _me_  about it,” Shaw mutters.

______\ If Your Number’s Up /______

Less than twenty minutes later, Root walks along the same street, slipping into the same alley, and finds Shaw sitting atop a closed dumpster, eyes like prison chains on the woman sitting on the ground across from her. At hearing the clicking of heels, Shaw looks up, eyes meeting Root’s. Root flashes her an award winning smile.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re going to get fired, Shaw,” she says with a smugness in her tone that makes Shaw roll her eyes. She slides down from her perch without so much of a sound, her grace and agility leaving Root in awe.

“Get up, Shane,” Shaw says without a hint of emotion, and she obeys, a sliver of defiance in her hazel eyes.

“Don’t  _shoot_ ,” she retorts heatedly, standing with agonizing slowness until she rises to a full, five foot eight stance. Root, in her heels, is taller than this newcomer, and greets her tight lips with a smile.

“I’m Root,” she says pleasantly, and Shane gives her a jut of the chin in response.

“Hey.”

“Oh,” Root says to herself, brow furrowing as she sifts through her pocket for her phone. Retrieving it, she walks over to Shaw, unlocking it all the while. “Harold sent me a number while I was on my way. Strange enough, it’s someone named Carmen.”

At the mention of the name, Shane looses all contempt, walking forward with interest. “Is the last name De la Pica-”

“Morales?” Root finishes with a clever grin. “Yes.”

“So, you found her?” She asks anxiously, and Root tilts her head sympathetically to the side.

“No, but we’re going to look for her.”

“Stay in touch,” Shaw says, yet gives her no way to, and begins to walk from the alleyway.

“Wait, Ca-…  _Shaw_ ,” she corrects herself, eyes in a plead. “Let me come with you. I’ll be able to pick her out.”

Shaw gives a contemptuous snort. “We don’t  _need_  your help,” she says frostily, but Root shrugs.

“Alright,” she agrees, and Shaw casts a murderous eye her way. “Just keep on the lookout.” With that, they begin to walk- Shane and Root side-by-side, with Shaw tagging along furiously behind.

“Do you have any idea where she might be?” Shane asks Root, voice low enough that Shaw is unable to make out more than soft sound.

“There’s a general area,” Root replies in that same manner. She remains silent for a moment, thinking. “Who is Carmen to you anyway?” She asks. Shane looks over at her, a mixture of confusion on her face.

“Someone I have a  _lot_  of things to iron out with,” she responds, and Root nods, understanding the complexity of every thought stringing through her head. Turning a corner, Shaw pulls up beside Root, fed up at last with being left out of the chat, not that she cared for the topic, just what this still-stranger was saying to Root. She doesn’t trust her, not yet- _not ever._

“Is there anything you can tell us about her?” Root asks, feeling the sudden tension in the air. Shaw’s iron clad glare Shane’s way is impossible to cut, even with the sharpest of blades. “What she might be wearing, who she might be around- anything other than what her face looks like,” Root says jokingly, looking over to Shaw with doting eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Shane says, bringing a hand to the back of her neck in thought. “She uh, she was wearing some colorful crop top the last time I saw her, and blue jeans and a belt. She does DJ-ing stuff, so, if there’s music, she’ll probably be there.” Shaw looks down at her attire- black blazer and a black pencil skirt.

“And  _I_  look like the type that openly wears  _tie-dyed half shirts_?” Shaw asks harshly, gesturing to herself. A defensive flare rises up in Shane’s eyes as she leans across Root to get closer to Shaw’s face.

“How often is it that two  _completely_  different people look  _exactly_  the same,” she spits, and Shaw bears her teeth in a snarl, only returning to neutrality when Root stops mid-step, all of her becoming a statue. Shaw turns back to face her, watching Root’s face as her dark eyes flutter closed, small strands of hair brushing across her face in the soft breeze. Everything about her is at peace, but Shaw can sense this is the moment before war. Finally, Root’s eyes snap open, focusing in on Shaw instantly with a warm glow that sends a tremor down Shaw’s spine. Root’s mouth turns up into a beautiful, accomplished smile.

“I hope you’re ready to dance, Sam,” she says, and Shaw watches her with irritation and curiosity. “Because I hear music.”

_________\ We’ll Find You /_______

And sure enough, within the next five blocks the streets are pulsing with the sound of the bass, bodies dancing and moving about all along what seems to be an endless block party.  _What the Hell?_  Shaw thinks, elbowing a man in the back as he nearly dances into her, and her eyes become fireballs. _Why are we here?_

The music is a restless sea, surging up and plummeting down in endless, clashing rhythm; the instruments like waves roaring in Shaw’s ears. They pick through the dense crowd of bodies, Shaw unable to see more than two people ahead of her at a time. The farther they walk, the louder the music grows, until Shaw can’t even hear her own thoughts. Everything is drowned out, and she looks around for Carmen in the rowdy throng. Turning to Root, Shaw stops- realizing she’s no where in sight, and is unsure whether it is annoyance or worry that hits her in the stomach, causing her to cringe in.

“Sorry, bro!” A teen in a neon jacket and denim jeans screams out to her, backing away with his hands raised up in surrender. Shaw watches him with slits for eyes, then turns her back to him, enveloped once more in the crowd.  _It wasn’t emotions, it was an elbow._

Irritated now, Shaw begins to shoulder people out of the way, ignoring their dismayed grumbles that barely reach her over the tunes. Soon enough, she comes to a break in the hoard, and sees Root standing- back to her- with a woman of about five three, dark hair let down haphazardly about her. As Root talks to her, the woman bounces back and forth on her feet, still having a small jam session. She shakes her head, and Root angles her head down- Shaw can imagine the stern look that has undoubtedly taken hold of Root’s usually kind face, and smiles. Root takes the woman at the arm, says something into her ear, then releases her, stepping back with hands on her hips. The mystery woman stops moving about, a statue among the living, then rushes away with Root leading her off.

Shaw follows as best she can, barely able to hold onto the sight of Root’s hair or the woman’s high rise sneakers as they snake through the dancers. After what feels like an endless chase, Shaw breaks free of the suffocating crowd, air instantly dropping fifteen degrees, and she draws in a large breath. A quick moment of scanning the open area, and Shaw finds Root watching her, eyes affectionate with a provocative smirk on her face. Steeling her stomach and setting her jaw, Shaw stalks forward, feeling what must look like an angered countenance on her features. It’s better than smiling, she seethes to herself, unsure why she feels the urge to give Root a quick grin, but despising it all the same.

Shaw’s eyes travel past Root to two people standing against a nearby building. The first, taller one with short hair she recognizes as Shane. She presses her hand against the sky scraper’s shaded surface, body facing the other person with one foot crossed over the other. The second woman- the one Shaw only knows by her wild hair and white shoes- leans her back and head against the wall, feet out on an angle, only adding to her shortness.  _Carmen._  Upon standing before Root, Shaw stops walking, but her eyes don’t come back to Root just yet.

“Nothing’s happened to her,” Shaw states plainly, and Root nods.

“We’re just going to have to stay close for now.” Shane looks up at Shaw, cocks her head to the side, then ducks her eyes back down, nodding to the woman at her side. A purse comes to her lips, and she begins towards, Root following close at her heels. As soon as they get into hearing range, Shane and Carmen stop, lips clamping shut and eyes forced with inauspicious innocence. A sneer pulls up on Shaw’s lip, but she doesn’t press the matter. She’s more interested in Carmen, and the two size each other up.

Shaw looks at her dark brown eyes, light tan skin and ebony hair. She stands at no more than five foot three, hands stuffed into the fronts of her pockets and a small smile on her face. Shaw turns to face Root, stepping beside Carmen to give her a flat look.

“I don’t know  _what_  the two of you have been prattling about,” Shaw says with an accusatory flare for Root and Shane, “but we look  _nothing_  alike.”


End file.
